Roy's favourite time of day was the early morning, the only time when Ed was too sleep-befuddled to argue with him. To fight with him. It was the only time that Roy felt he could say any, or all, of the things he normally held back. Not that he ever would – neither he nor Ed were exactly prone to overshare – but knowing he could was enough.
Instead, he would push the tangled sheets out of the way and explore the body before him with his mouth. Gently, reverently.
He supposed that in the end he was telling Ed, after all.
